


In His Hands

by Just_Another_Day



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Damen is a Good Boy, Eventual Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Massage, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 22:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15423231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Day/pseuds/Just_Another_Day
Summary: "Well-developed muscles definitely come in handy in this line of work."





	In His Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for implications of past sexual abuse scattered throughout.
> 
> Written for a tumblr ask. If anyone else wants to help me break in my brand new [tumblr](https://justanotherdaylikeanyother.tumblr.com/), feel free to come make a request or just generally shout in my direction about stuff. Anon asks are fine if you're shy (or don't want to confess to your kinks, lol), and I'll write pretty much anything, so go for broke. ;)

"I don't think that would end well," Laurent said coldly. "Do you?"

Auguste's expression was serious. "Look, I know you don't like it when strangers get that close to you." And he also knew exactly why, unfortunately, so Laurent couldn't believe he was pushing for this. "But I know this guy personally. We play scrap games against his football team all the time and grab drinks with them afterwards. Jord tells me he's very proficient at his job, and I can vouch for him being a good guy too. If nothing else, he knows that you're my little brother, and that I'd permanently maim him if he overstepped his bounds." That last part was said like it was a joke, but the hard look lurking in Auguste's eyes suggested otherwise. 

"I don't know why you can't you just do it like you usually do," Laurent muttered.

Auguste gave him a flat look. "Laurent, I openly admit to having many talents, so you know I'm not going for false modesty here when I tell you that I'm under no illusions that I give good massages."

That was true enough. Auguste was so averse to the idea of causing Laurent pain even momentarily that he refused to risk it by really digging in his fingers or manipulating Laurent's limbs in the way Laurent actually needed. But his efforts did help a bit, and Laurent would prefer to suffer through the remaining discomfort once Auguste was done over having someone else touch him. 

It would be so much easier if he could have had a female massage him, since Laurent couldn't imagine the panicked feeling would rise in his chest the moment a woman put her hands on him, but that wasn't a done thing in Vere. That left him with the option of giving a strange man the opportunity to touch him in complete privacy where anything could happen, or having to bare parts of his skin in a more public setting, where countless people might be able to see him and scrutinise him (and possibly pick him out to follow him to a more secluded area…).

So Laurent's refusal to consider Auguste's suggestion remained strong for a few more days after that, but the twinging in his shoulders from hunching over his desk while he worked on his computer for hours on end grew so bad that he could barely sit still anymore, and even working from his bed didn't seem to help much. It was particularly upsetting, Laurent found, because if there was one thing Laurent had always known, it was that reading should be the one thing that was guaranteed not to hurt. 

The pain eventually managed to crack his resistance.

He could always just leave before they even really got started if he got a bad vibe from the man, Laurent thought, though that self-reassurance didn't manage to stop his heart from racing as he was called in from the waiting area.

"Hi there. It's Laurent, right? I'm Damen," the masseur who Auguste had recommended to him greeted warmly as Laurent stepped into the room.

" _Oh,_ " Laurent breathed after laying eyes on the man. "I didn't expect you to be…"

"Akielon?" It was true there weren't many Akielons inside the borders of Vere these days.

"Built like a truck," Laurent corrected as his eyes mapped the muscles that were practically bulging through the masseur's tight shirt. It was obvious that this man could overpower Laurent in seconds, without breaking a sweat. 

Though Laurent wasn't sure that his dry mouth was entirely attributable to fear, because… wow. 

Damen laughed. The divot of a dimple punctuated the curl of his mouth, drawing Laurent's eyes inexorably across his face to his lips. He might be Akielon in looks and stature, but it was in perfect, nearly-accentless Veretian that he said, "Well-developed muscles definitely come in handy in this line of work. Though that isn't to say I haven't met a few rake-thin massage therapists who could work you over as thoroughly as anyone."

"And that's what I can expect you to be, right? _Thorough_?"

It made Laurent almost feel sick to force a flirtatious lilt to his voice as he spoke, but better to test the man now, while Laurent was fully clothed and standing close to the door.

There was another flash of teeth, though this time it wasn't accompanied by a laugh. "You can expect me to be efficient," Damen promised. He didn't mirror Laurent's fake playfulness, even though Laurent could tell that Damen found him attractive; Laurent, unfortunately, knew exactly what it looked like when a man looked at Laurent and liked what he saw. But that wasn't to say he was cold, either, for he came across as being as friendly as a golden retriever. He was just… professional, as Jord had apparently claimed.

Laurent thought he could probably work with that.

"I don't want a full-body massage, even if that's what my brother paid for," Laurent said. "It's my shoulders and neck that are causing me trouble, so there's hardly a need for that." And Laurent had no desire to remove his trousers and make himself vulnerable that way, with only an easily-pushed-aside sheet between him and another man.

"All right," Damen nodded. "Then you can just remove your shirt whenever you're ready and shift so you're lying facing down on the table."

Laurent pictured being prone and placing his face into that padded hole in the table that would restrict him from looking at anything but the ground directly beneath him. He would be unable to see the large man looming behind him as he reached out to touch Laurent. Laurent had to fight not to physically recoil.

It took him a moment to pick up on the fact that his name was being called repeatedly. Soft brown eyes hovered before him, but not so close that Laurent felt the need to put some space between them.

"I can give you a massage over your shirt, if you want to leave it on," Damen offered kindly. "It's not a problem."

"You can do that?" He hated that Damen had so easily read his hesitation and clearly picked up on the underlying weakness that caused it, but Laurent supposed it was better than him obliviously forging ahead with his usual kind of massage when Laurent could tell immediately that that wasn't going to work for him at all.

"I can do whatever you like, within reason. My job is to relax you, not make you uncomfortable. We could even just talk if that's what you want. It actually wouldn't be the first time I spent a session that way."

"You just want to earn yourself some easy money," Laurent accused lightly.

Damen shook his head. "Actually, giving a massage is usually easier for me than a long conversation would be. I'm better with actions than words, or so I've been told. But I've been paid for an hour, and it's up to you how we spend that time. I'm at your disposal." 

Laurent let the nervous air slowly leave his lungs. "Auguste would decide he'd done the wrong thing in sending me here if he found out I spent a whole hour with a masseur and couldn't manage to get any kind of massage, and then he'd spend the next year blaming himself for 'pressuring' me into it. So I might as well at least give it a chance," he said flippantly, as if it didn't matter to him either way.

"I don't think Auguste would want you to force yourself," Damen said.

"It's fine," Laurent said. "I'm not forcing myself."

It wasn't entirely a lie, Laurent thought, because 'forcing' was a strong word.

Laurent moved to make himself as comfortable as possible sitting on the edge of the massage table. Then, although Damen had offered for Laurent to remain completely dressed, Laurent's fingers moved to press his top button through its hole and made their way down, again, and again, until half of his shirt was undone. After only a scant moment of hesitation, Laurent pushed his shirt down off his shoulders so that it pooled around his elbows and bunched at his lower back. The air in the office seemed suddenly colder than Laurent had realised with that layer gone. Laurent tried to ignore the way his nipples pebbled at the change in temperature as they were revealed to the open air. If Damen saw that physical reaction, Laurent didn't know, for it took him a moment to muster the courage to meet Damen's eyes. When he did, though, Laurent made sure his gaze was firm and expectant; almost challenging. 

"Is this sufficient?" Laurent asked.

"Absolutely. And you want to sit up just like that?" Damen clarified.

"Yes," Laurent said. "And…" It was foolish, for Laurent knew it shouldn't actually make any difference to him in this situation, but: "Is it possible for you to stand in front of me even when you're working on the back of my neck and shoulders?" This would be so much easier if Damen stayed where Laurent could watch his every move (and see his unexpectedly kind face, so different than the one Laurent feared seeing in his mind's eye if Damen was out of his line of sight and Laurent's imagination was left to fill in the deficit).

Damen didn't look put out, as if he thought it was a stupid or unwieldy request. He merely looked considering. "You might have to bear with me a little while I work through the logistics of doing it backwards, but sure. I do always like a challenge. Though I might have to stand a little closer to you than usual to manage that angle, so please tell me immediately if you feel like I'm too close, or if I do anything you don't like."

The way Damen then talked through what he was doing from the moment he started moving, telling Laurent where he was going to touch him and when – and even how, talking Laurent through the way the motions were meant to help – should have been irritating, for it formed the kind of running commentary that Laurent would usually have considered pointless. But instead, Laurent was grateful for it. The sound of Damen's voice kept him grounded, and the warning before each touch eliminated the surprise of it.

Standing in front of where Laurent was sitting up on the massage table, Damen started out with his hands on top of both of Laurent's shoulders. His hands were softer than Laurent would have expected from the look of him, and, despite the oil that was now spread over them, were also warmer than Auguste's usually were when he tried to do this. Though otherwise it wasn't actually unlike the way Auguste used to clap his hands down on Laurent's shoulders in greeting when they'd been younger, except for how Damen's fingers probed, searching for problem points and working at them once he'd discovered them. But as his right hand circled around Laurent's neck, and Damen had to step in a little closer to give him room to move his arm freely, it started feeling _very_ different to anything Laurent would ever experience with Auguste. This position would have been better suited for Damen to lean forward to close the gap between them with a kiss rather than to give Laurent a shoulder rub. The thought of it sent adrenaline shooting through Laurent's system. Surprisingly, that response seemed to have little to do with apprehension for once. 

If Damen was affected by their closeness, then he covered it very well, though Laurent didn't think, based on what he'd seen of the man so far, that Damen was particularly good at hiding anything. Laurent's own concealment abilities were also questionable right then, for the flush of Laurent's face and chest was entirely uncovered for Damen to see. But he thankfully wasn't looking at that. Instead, his eyebrows were furrowed slightly in concentration as he continued to work unheeded.

He was certainly maintaining a more impassive approach to the whole thing than Laurent was managing. Damen's fingers moved in some particularly clever way that made Laurent, without meaning to, gasp obscenely. Mortified, he bit at his lip and considered whether it would be worse to sit here and try to pretend that Damen's touch wasn't affecting him that way or to shrug his shirt on and run now before it got any worse.

There was no possible way that Damen hadn't heard the noise Laurent had made, close as they were, but he didn't react except to say, "Hey, I can feel it when your mind is working too hard, you know. Your shoulders unconsciously raise a little and your muscles tense up even more. Don't think. Just relax."

That was easier said than done for Laurent. But actually, as Damen's fingers continued working rhythmically at his nape, with his voice providing an accompaniment, Laurent felt like the world was falling away from him a little. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant sensation. Was this what it felt like to relax? Laurent didn't exactly have a lot to compare it with.

When Laurent's neck and shoulders were knot-free and seemed to have been worked into something bearing a strong resemblance to the consistency of gelatin, Damen's hands moved to Laurent's biceps above his half-open shirt, and then around to Laurent's pectoral muscles when he was eventually done there. As Damen worked Laurent's muscles, Laurent watched Damen's muscles flex with every movement and had to focus very hard on not wondering what it would be like to return the favour. Damen very carefully didn't brush his hands over the sensitive points of Laurent's chest, but he got so close, and the anticipation and the possibility of it were so potent that he might as well have actually touched Laurent that way. Laurent didn't arch his chest into Damen's touch, but he had to acknowledge to himself that it was a near thing. He wasn't as disgusted as he would have expected by the thought of nearly showing what Laurent would usually have considered weakness in front of Damen. Damen hadn't been put off by any of Laurent's other little quirks, after all.

Laurent was stunned when the thought crossed his mind that he actually felt safe in Damen's hands. He hadn't felt this way since before… well. Ever, in fact.

When Damen's hands left his body entirely, Laurent actually kind of missed them. He could hardly believe the turnaround from earlier, when he hadn't really been able to picture letting those massive hands come near him in the first place. An hour-long massage seemed to have passed in a flash where Laurent had expected it to stretch almost unbearably. Laurent supposed that part of that was probably because he'd spent the first part of the session dithering over whether to allow the massage in the first place, so it had been more like a half hour massage, probably.

Damen was all smiles and easy chatter as he used a towel to wipe the oil from Laurent's skin and then left Laurent to refasten the buttons of his shirt and straighten himself out (and collect himself).

Damen invited Laurent to make another appointment with the receptionist if he was comfortable doing so. It should have been perfect, Laurent thought. He could imagine letting this particular man massage him somewhat regularly, as needed, so that he would no longer have to settle for Auguste's perfunctory attempts.

But as Laurent's palm rested on the door handle, he hesitated to turn it.

Damen had done exactly what Laurent wanted and no more. He had proven himself more or less trustworthy, and able to place someone else's needs over his personal desires. And he was achingly handsome on top of that. 

Laurent honestly didn't know why someone like Damen would consider dealing with all of Laurent's flaws and complications when he wasn't being paid to do so, even if he did like the way Laurent looked. And yet Laurent could still hardly deny that he was interested to find out whether Damen's willingness to cede to what Laurent wanted and needed might extend outside the massage office to other areas. From what Laurent had learned so far of Damen's character, the worst that could happen was probably him gently turning Laurent down.

"What's your office's policy on a masseur accepting a client's offer to go out for coffee?" Laurent asked. 

Damen chuckled deeply, seductively, his former professionalism vanishing in a flash as if the end of the session and Laurent's question combined had flipped a switch. "Well, he could agree, but then he wouldn't be able to see that client again in an official capacity. If that was a problem, though, I bet the massage therapist in question could still be persuaded to offer a casual massage or two outside of work hours."

"So you're saying that I could get a massage for the price of a coffee? That's significantly cheaper than what my brother paid, I'd say."

"It'd be free, in fact, since I'll buy the coffee," Damen offered. 

"Who said the masseur I was talking about was _you_?" teased Laurent. It felt different from earlier, when he'd been putting on a mischievous tone purely to test Damen, for where that had felt dirty in its dishonesty, this felt more natural to Laurent.

"Are you really turning down a complimentary massage even after sampling my prodigious skills?" Damen asked, sounding almost hurt.

"It sounds like you couldn't handle such a blow to your ego," Laurent said, "so I suppose I'll take pity on you and let you treat me to the coffee. The massage you'll have to earn."

"And how does one go about earning the right to give someone else a free massage?" Damen asked wryly.

"You'll just have to wait and find out, won't you?"

"Gladly," said Damen. 

They quickly exchanged numbers before the receptionist rapped her knuckles on the door and then popped her head in to check on why Damen hadn't yet called for his next client. Then a minute later, as he was exiting the ground floor of the building, Laurent received his first text from Damen inviting him to a nearby café that evening, presumably straight after he finished work. Apparently, Damen couldn't even wait a whole day to see him again. Everyone on the street was suddenly treated to the kind of smile Laurent would usually reserve only for Auguste.

Their second encounter of the day was an odd collocation of casualness, like Laurent would expect of meeting with a friend (if Laurent _had_ any real friends other than Auguste, who was more than that anyway), and buzzing excitement, which Laurent put down to expectancy. 

Laurent, in a moment of boldness, reached across the table past Damen's mocha latte. Damen, surprised, jerked a little, but he didn't pull his hand away. Their fingers intertwined as if in slow motion, hesitantly.

"Are you sure this is alright?" Damen asked, glancing pointedly down at their clasping hands.

Disbelieving, Laurent said, "You had your hands all over me while I was half-shirtless earlier, and now you're concerned that a little hand-holding would be moving too fast?"

"That was _work_."

"Was it?" Laurent asked. "It seemed a great deal more like pleasure from my perspective." If he was going to be daring, he might as well go all out. Laurent didn't like doing things by half measures.

Damen, to Laurent's delight, turned just red enough for Laurent to notice the difference in his darkened cheeks. Laurent wasn't the only one with an obvious tell, it seemed, though Laurent's paler skin did show it more easily.

"I'm glad to hear that," Damen said. "But I still want to take it slow, if that's alright with you."

Laurent suspected Damen was only saying that in the first place because he'd picked up on the fact that Laurent probably had a reason for his early trepidation, not because he personally was opposed to tumbling into bed in a tangle of naked limbs within a few hours of meeting someone. But Laurent let the polite fiction on his behalf stand.

"I'd like that," Laurent said.

Given the decision to go slowly, Laurent went home alone (without even a kiss before he went, though it was enough for Laurent that it had been obvious Damen would have _liked_ to kiss him).

"How was it?" Auguste asked. 

"We're not talking about it," Laurent instructed.

Auguste frowned. "It was that bad? Do I need to break his fingers?"

"No." That would be a tragedy. Damen had very nice fingers, and knew exactly how to use them. Laurent felt himself blushing for the second time that day. 

Auguste's expression changed from borderline thunderous to a blooming grin. " _Oh_. Really? With Damen?"

"Shut up."

"He didn't…"

"No," Laurent cut him off immediately. "He was perfectly professional until I asked him for coffee after the appointment was already over."

Auguste relaxed a little, then shook his head and said wryly, "I guess I did too good a job of convincing you that he's a good guy, huh?"

"No you didn't," Laurent said. "He did that himself."

**Author's Note:**

> It's different when it's ~~sports~~ work. ;) Seriously though, Damen would 100% shift from zero to 'hey how you doing' in 0.1 seconds the moment he learned Laurent might be interested and decided the client relationship was done. He must have been clamping down so damn hard on his attraction that whole time.
> 
> Also, Laurent is Veretian (the equivalent of French), so I think it makes sense for him to refer to Damen as a 'masseur' without it necessarily being suggestive of Damen being in _that_ kind of job. But you just know that Damen's going to spend the rest of their lives reminding him that he's actually a 'massage therapist', and Laurent's going to doggedly keep calling him a masseur because it makes Damen's eye twitch.


End file.
